Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione Granger and co, J.K. Rowling and co does. I do not own the Volturi and co, Stephanie Meyer and co does. I’m simply playing with the characters for fun, not profit.
Aro Volturi frowned faintly. The proclamation was not something new, usually from vampires eager to get the ones responsible for the leak into trouble, but this vampiress was not eager or pleased. She looked afraid.
“Step forward,” he ordered brusquely reaching out with one hand.
The vampiress nodded jerkily and held her hand out. Aro gripped it tightly and frowned faintly as he began skimming through the memories to review the key points.
By the time he released the young one he was disturbed himself. He caught Demetri’s eye. “Show our guest to a private room.” He smiled more reassuringly at the fidgeting vampiress. “I believe I have all the information we need but I would prefer if you stayed for two days. After you may leave Volterra.”
The young female bowed her head and backed away before turning to follow Demetri.
Aro waited until Demetri and their guest left the room before he turned to his brothers with a grim expression. He didn’t have to say anything. They rose as one and left at a stately, steady pace that did not falter until they were ensconced in Aro’s private office.
“What is it?” Caius demanded to know.
Aro frowned and fidgeted before finally meeting his more volatile brother’s eyes. “Magic.”
Marcus sighed. “The enclaves.”
Aro nodded. “The young one stumbled into the warded estate of a witch or wizard and was spelled to forget.”
“But she remembered enough to come to us.” Caius deduced.
“She woke up just as the property owner was leaving.”
Caius frowned. “This could cause some problems with the ICW. They do not tolerate our breed of vampires inside their enclaves.”
“Because almost none of our breed has the discipline to Not drain a magic user dry,” Marcus pointed out blandly. “Their blood is intoxicating.”
“And poisonous,” Aro pointed out dryly. “It’s standard post-natal practice for enclave mediwitches to inoculate their newborns with potions that make their blood deadly to us. After the last idiot who committed suicide-via-wand-user the enclaves were warded against us.”
“But not this property. Or at least not properly,” Caius commented thoughtfully.
Aro blinked rapidly, then nodded. “Yesss. A wand-user would be a useful ally.” Aro thought for a moment before nodding firmly. “Yes. I’ll send Demetri to track down this wand-user. When he has a report for us we’ll see about offering a hand in alliance.”
Marcus looked like he wanted to say something for a split second but in the end he decided not to.
~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~
Four months later Aro was pissed.
He had sent Demetri who returned less than five days later completely befuddled when asked for a report on his assignment.
He sent Demetri out again with Felix. Both returned empty handed and blank minded.
He sent the pair out with the twins. The group returned with the same result.
With Afton and Hedie. The same outcome.
“Forget it! I’ll go myself!” Aro yelled out in frustration.
“Are you sure that is wise?” Caius asked indiffidently. “Your power is centered around memories and this magic user is especially skilled at manipulating memories. Do you want to risk being completely memory-wiped?”
Aro went still.
“Then who? You?”
Caius snorted. “I have no desire to risk angering a wand-user and being burned alive.”
Marcus stirred. “I will go.”
“No!” Aro yelled. Then more gently. “No. I do not want to risk you being killed.”
Marcus snorted softly. “This magic user did not kill Jane. That alone is a sign of great restraint. I will be fine Aro.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smile. “This is the first thing that has interested me in centuries.”
Aro studied Marcus intently. Then he held out a hand. Marcus placed his much larger hand in Aro’s, allowing the more proactive vampire to read his memories. What Aro saw was enough to reassure him, to nod and agree to Marcus’s suggestion.
Three days later Marcus left Volterra accompanied by Demetri and the Twins.
~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~
Marcus had easily overtaken the swift pace set the tracker and left Demetri far behind. He did not travel outside Volterra often, but he was one of the Ancients and a more than capable fighter when he cared to make the effort.
The sky was overcast, covered with dull pewter grey clouds indicating the potential for rain, the perfect weather for vampires whose marble-like skin reflected sunlight like a disco ball. Marcus wasn’t interested in much but he cared enough to not breach the Secrecy. It would result in open war and decades of conflict.
This was his first time in the Forest of Dean and he wondered why this was not a more popular seasonal area among the vampire population. The current weather and environment was perfect for his kind, too cool for camping, the few human outdoor enthusiasts around were more intent on their own activities. It was almost twilight and even those campers would be settling in for the night, leaving the land to just the animals and the vampires.
It was easy to move in the clothes Demetri had purchased: loose-fitting camo pants, a matching shirt over a navy blue t-shirt, a khaki hunters vest, comfortable hiking boots. Marcus had not worn anything so casual in centuries. It was interesting, being given a once-over and then ignored by mortals. It had amused him as well, in his living years. Before being reborn as a vampire, Marcus had been a wizard, a wand-user. He could still ‘feel’ it when magic was being used near-by. Unlike most of his vampire-brethren, he could walk over a warded threshold — he still had enough of a magical core to be recognized by basic wards. Thank Merlin he still retained his abilities in Occlumency — it was the only reason why Aro never discovered Marcus’s extensive history with magic and thee enclaves. Aro never knew and if Marcus had his way Aro would never find out.
The Ministries never suspected Marcus had once been a wizard either; most wizards who were Changed killed themselves the first time they got a chance — they could not bear to live without magic. Marcus would have done the same if it wasn’t for Didyme, then later Chelsea’s artificial bonds. As far as Marcus was aware, he was the only wizard turned vampire more than two hundred years old. All others committed suicide within a few decades.
He could hear Demetri and the twins calling out to him. They had lost track of him the moment he crossed over the outer wards set in the forest. They were afraid and angry. Understandable since they would have to explain to Aro how they had lost a third of the Volturi leadership. Marcus understood but he did not care to turn back, to reassure them that he was fine. This was the first chance he had to reconnect with his living past, from his magical years. This was the first wards in his experience that were not set up to repel or incinerate vampires.
The moon was rising now, the pale light filtering through the tree branches overhead, lighting the path before him, random patches of illuminated ground while shadows dominated the rest. Marcus did not need the moonlight to navigate. He walked down the path, beams of moonlight shimmering on marble-hard skin as he followed it to the end. A brighter blue light was emitting from the windows of the small cottage he could see through the trees.
His feet took the small side trail leading to the door. It was a solid sturdy affair made of ancient English oak. Marcus strongly suspected it was warded heavily enough to repel an army if needed. He raised one hand and knocked, and then waited.
~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~
Hermione looked up from the book on her lap desk, the sharp knocks an unexpected interruption in her plans for a lazy evening. She was a little concerned as well. Hermione had chosen her current abode with great care and warded it appropriately to discourage visitors. After the Battle of Hogwarts the muggleborn witch chose to retreat from enclave life, to focus on her research and private studies using her Order of Merlin funds. And her inheritance. Her parents had been the tipping point in her decision to step away.
It began when she went searching for Wendell and Monica Wilkens and found two gravestones. Her parents died thinking they were childless.
It had been a terrible struggle, trying to wrap up their estate because there were no provable connections between Hermione Granger and the Wilkens — Hermione had been very thorough. Fortunately she had not been skilled enough to cover all the magical traces and the Australian Department of Magic had been able to help.
She returned to Britain still shell-shocked from her loss and no one else truly empathized. Most were too relieved that the war was over and done with. Harry had felt guilt-ridden and Hermione had been forced to tamp down on her pain, to pretend she was recovering. But she wasn’t. Recovering that is.
Then Ron proposed to her. In fact he expected her to marry her before the end of the summer, to start a family right after Hermione finished her last year in Hogwarts — Harry and Ron would be joining the Aurors with their honorary NEWTs. Hermione had protested; she was still in mourning and wasn’t ready to take such an important step, but Ron kept pushing. And it wasn’t just him — everyone expected her to move on, to settle into a magical relationship and pretend everything was just fine and dandy, that she was happy. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Hermione refused to forget, to pretend everything was find, to toe the expected line, and it created a rift between herself and her old friends and former allies. Few witches or wizards bothered visiting her nowadays. The rare times she entered the enclaves for shopping or visiting Gringotts, most ignored her.
It was a quiet evening. Most of her evenings were quiet, filled with reading or meditation. She had felt the ward sensor go off, a slight tingle indicating someone had crossed the outer edges but there was no urgency indicating a threat of violence. So when someone knocked at the door she was not too surprised. It was more of a shock to see a vampire on her doorstep.
“Good evening,” he intoned gravely.
Good manners compelled Hermione to respond in kind. “Good evening sir.” After a slight pause she asked, “Is there a reason for your presence on my doorstep?”
He blinked once and inclined his head. “Yes.”
Most witches would have slammed the door on any vampire’s face long before now. But Hermione was not a typical witch. This vampire had not tripped any of the violence wards and he did not look thirsty or desperate. So she felt safe enough to invite him in.
“Do you wish to come inside and tell me?”
He looked slightly startled. He probably did not get that often from a mortal who knew what he was. But he did react and step over the threshold. He watched Hermione close and re-ward the door, then wave him over to her small living room.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink? A blood replenishing potion? A blood pop?” Now his eyes popped and it made Hermione giggle. “I have a few vampire friends who visit.”
The vampire’s expression soured slightly. “Ones with permits from Your Ministry,” he pronounced heavily.
Hermione snorted. “Not My Ministry. I refuse to be associated with that cesspit.” She smiled faintly. “I met them when I was a student. At a dinner party hosted by an old teacher.”
“And you kept in touch with them? Even after you graduated?” Seeing her nod he made a soft noise. “Very foolish or very brave of you.”
Hermione shrugged. “Both I think.”
“And you are not afraid of vampires visiting you when you live alone and so far from mortals or magicals?”
“I can look after myself. Besides living alone suits me. I’m a Potions Mistress. I can brew and do research on my own schedule in my own home much more comfortably than in a shop.”
“Surely you miss your friends.”
Hermione gave the vampire a tolerant look. “They’re busy with their own lives. We have different interests, goals, and desires. Besides if they cared they could easily Apparate to visit.”
The vampire looked intrigued. “May I know your interests, goals and desires?”
“No,” she told him bluntly. “I would like to know why you are here. No one else lives in this section of the Forest.”
He studied her intently before nodding slowly. “I wish to offer you a patronage contract from the Volturi. And before you say anything it is not illegal to make such an offer.”
Hermione laughed. “Only because the Ministries can’t imagine anyone ever saying yes.”
“Because they can’t imagine any magical ever trusting vampires.”
“I don’t trust vampires,” Hermione told him bluntly. He raised an arch brow and gestured at himself, as if saying ‘then why am I here in your home?’ She sighed. “But I think I could trust you. Maybe.”
“So would you be willing to consider the offer?”
Hermione waved at a trio of chairs set near the fireplace. “Perhaps. You can start by introducing yourself and telling me why I would be interested.”
He smiled, a surprisingly warm and intimate expression from the impassive visage. “My name is Marcus Volturi.”
Hermione inhaled sharply. She recognized the name. One of the Three Ruling Kings of the Vampire Nation. “It was my understanding the Kings never leave Volterra.”
“That would be a misunderstanding. We do occasionally leave the Fortress.”
“When was the last time you left?”
He was quiet for a bit. “A long time,” he finally admitted.
Hermione felt there were several sensitive and emotional reasons why it had been a long time, so she tried to redirect the conversation. “Why would I be interested in Volturi patronage? I’m not interested in killing or being Changed.”
“We do not need killers — we have the Guard for that — and I do not wish to Change you. We need your mind and magical talents more than your physical strength.”
“I’m not willing to move to Volterra.”
“There is no restriction on physical proximity in this modern age. You can live and work where you please as long as you deliver on your contract.”
This was going almost too well. “I’m not interested in creating poisons, or anything that will kill humans.”
“The Volturi are more interested in blending into mainstream society than standing out.”
“So I can pick and choose what I deliver.”
“As long as it will benefit the Volturi I do not see any issue. At least for our first contract. The terms may become stricter or looser if you choose to re-negotiate.”
Hermione absorbed the warning with a thoughtful expression. “And if I ask to deal only with you?”
Now she had clearly startled him, given his deer-in-headlights expression.
“Excuse me?”
“What if I want to deal with only one Volturi vampire. You.”
He stared at her. Then he smiled slowly as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands dangling between his thighs. “I’m willing to listen to your reasons why I should say yes.”
Hermione smiled.
~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~
Marcus Volturi had never thought he would be blessed with a second mate, not after he lost his beloved Didyme, but he had. He never expected to find her in the shape of a mortal witch in the Forest of Dean. But now that he had found her he was determined to never leave her side. Ever.
Marcus knew Aro would protest and send the Guard to take Marcus back to Volterra, or at least he would try. He would try and fail, because Marcus had no intention of ever leaving Hermione Granger’s wards and presence.
~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~
Aro Volturi dismissed the latest group of visitors and waited long enough to retreat to his private office. It was not his usual routine but ever since Demetri had returned without Marcus, and each group of guards sent out returned without any news, the seething anger built and built until he was just about ready to explode. The only thing that kept him from summoning all his allies and assembling an army was the knowledge that Marcus was safe, that the witch was delivering on her side of the bargain.
He reached under his desk to touch a particular spot. It required a precise amount of pressure to eject the hidden shallow drawer. Carefully he lifted the carved wooden box stored within the drawer. It was covered with abstract designs, runes that he could read using the language skills he had absorbed from various scholars.
It contained a rolled parchment, one whose contents he knew by heart — a contract of services signed by Hermione Granger and Marcus Volturi. Carefully he set the contents of the latest package delivered to Volterra inside the carved box — a shallow velvet tray containing two dozen narrow glass vials capped with silver stoppers. Each vial contained a dose of potion created by Hermione Granger that was designed to be used by vampires; a potion that would glamour the sparkle of vampire skin in direct sunlight. Aro had already sent Demetri to test the effectiveness under the direct sun of various Mediterranean countries. Given the background reports on Hermione Granger, Aro Volturi was confident the potion would work as promised. She was delivering on her contract. Her contract with Marcus.
Part of Aro was pleased by Marcus’s revival, his renewed interest in the world. Part of Aro was concerned by the witch, her influence on Marcus. He weighted the options and possibilities.
Hermione Granger had not indicated she wished to separate Marcus from the Volturi, in fact she was forming her own ties with the Volturi. Besides it would not be easy, killing a battle-forged witch. If she was angered she could do a great deal of damage. No, it was better to wait and watch. Besides, if he played his cards right, perhaps she would be willing to move permanently to Volterra.
A/N) This will be a multi-chapter story. Which I hope to post at a later time. I would like to give a shout out to American Android for reviewing this chapter. Thanks girl! 🙂 Set one week after DTTW. Eric has regained his memories but not his time with Sookie.
Rated- MA, violence, drama and sexual situations.
Disclaimer: I do not own SVM universe, Charlaine Harris does and she opened my eyes to a world and characters I never knew existed. She will forever have my thanks. Now to rearrange her cosmos. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter 1
“Maybe we can go out…on a date, again. I would love to date you, Sookie.” Sam stopped under the one lamppost of the Merlotte’s employee’s parking lot. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looking at his boot as he kicked a rock away. His graying reddish brown hair catching every bit of light from above.
“Uh, Sam. I can’t, I’m real sorry. No.” Sookie felt blind sighted by his sudden attentiveness. Confused really. She was madly in love with Eric Northman. Even if said vampire currently could not remember their amazing time together. Sookie did.
Yes, she thought. They were having some issues at the moment. Okay, issues was an understatement to the status of their current relationship. Sookie knew what she and Eric had meant to each other, when he was without his memories. What they had built together and what she craved to have again.
Eric did not know what they shared. A fact that Sookie knew aggravated him to no end. Her guilt over that particular miscalculation, in not telling him everything the moment he was back to himself, was slowly tearing her apart.
Sookie claimed to love him in her heart and soul. But when faced with the opportunity to tell him, tell Eric exactly what they meant to each other. How he held her. How she told him about her day. The way they made love. Sookie was uncomfortable with the lack of spine she had claimed for years held her morals. Too much of a coward to tell Eric the simple truth. They had grown from trusted acquaintances to two people who depended on each other, trusted each other and best of all Sookie felt. Deeply in love.
Truth be told, Sookie knew she had already trusted the beautiful Viking well before his run in with the witches. Eric was bold, witty, dependable, beyond devastatingly handsome. The looks of a runway model, with a wicked sense of humor and a savvy tactical mind rolled into one. She had always felt like Eric “got” her. And not even her beloved Gran “got” Sookie. That attribute alone made the Eric with his memories, priceless.
Sookie had no intention of hitching her wagon to anyone but her Eric. Sam never stood a chance.
“Why not?” Sam looked disappointed. Giving her head a quick shake out of her revelry, Sookie stated the fundamentals to Sam.
“I’m in love with someone else.”
“Eric.” Sam bristled. “He left you, cher. He left you high and dry after the damn witches were taken out. Not even a backwards glance in your direction. And here you are, pinning for him?” Sam was incredulous in his assumptions, crossing his arms over his chest in disbelief. His cruel behavior was doing nothing more than pissing Sookie off.
“He is off fucking fangbangers Sookie!” Sam exploded, his arms pitched out in the air to help prove his point. “Get those images through your head. He is off being Eric, not concerned in the slightest with you. Don’t waste your life over a vampire who will never love you.”
“What I do with my personal life is none of your concern, Sam Merlotte!” Sookie’s hands took permanent residence on her hips as she glares daggers in his direction. If flames could have burst through her irises, Sookie would have scorched Sam to a crisp. As it was she had no power of the fire starting variety.
Just the mind reading, thank you very much. Sookie thought.
Adding insult to injury Sam thought about what he thought Eric was up to. Scenes of multiple girls naked and jumping up and down on Eric’s lap. The scene straight from the Sunday school visuals of Sodom and Gomorrah. Sookie blinked, Sam then imagined girls covered in their own blood, dead. The light in their eyes gone as Eric walked callously over their bodies. The illusion was enough to make her stomach roll violently.
Through the onslaught Sookie kept a mask of anger on her face. She was not about to touch his comment about Eric and those sluts. It would give Sam a doorway to walk through and Sookie was not about to show that she was insanely jealous of who Eric was currently spending time with.
“You are my boss, Sam. Not to mention that I have always looked to you as I would an older brother.”
Sam winced at that comment, the pictures he was projecting ceasing in an instant. Sookie let out a breath slowly as her shields recovered from the barrage. She was twenty six and his ripe old age of 36 was not old, but there was a difference between them that could not be denied.
Sookie was not attracted to him. Period.
“I’m sorry Sam.” Sookie continued to speak her piece. “We’ve known each other for a lotta years now and you never once made a move on me. Not once, I would have remembered. Then Bill Compton walked into the bar and sat in my section.”
Sookie breathed in deep, pushing aside the many mistakes she had made with trusting Bill. She should have known better. Hell, had Bill been anything but a vampire it would have been easy to remember not to trust only his words. The Southern Civil War solider was still painful reminder that your trust can be misplaced. Especially when it came to something has breakable as your own heart. Downright irritating that his betrayal with his Maker made Sookie second guess her own judgment.
Sookie sighed, scrubbing her nose and forehead with the back of her hand. “You only wanted me when other Supes started to sniff around. That ain’t love, Sam. That makes you a game player.”
“Oh, and Eric doesn’t play games. Where is he tonight?” Sam deflected his lack of action.
“Eric has been honest with me since day one. You can’t say the same.” Sookie shook her head. All those years of Sam knowing about Sookie’s gift, he never once deemed her trustworthy enough to share his own otherness.
She huffed in annoyance at the thought but resolved herself to think about their inevitable reality in parting ways. “I guess we can’t go back to being friends, even though I’d like that. This may be too hard for you.” She pointed her hand back and forth between them. “Us working together.”
“What? You would quit the bar? Just like that? No Sookie, you always have a job at my place. Always.” Sam ran his hands through his red brownish hair and blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry, okay. I guess I saw this playing out differently. Very differently.” He added quietly.
Sam kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot. The old brown leather had worn deep creases through the arch. His worn blue jeans hid the remaining structure as the dust settled around his feet.
“Look it’s late.” He massaged his own neck. The muscles and tendons were strained, and they seemed to be getting tighter now that their talk was nearing the end. Or at least Sookie hoped it was ending, she couldn’t shake the need to get out of that dark backwoods parking lot. It was dark enough to feel like someone was watching them. Waiting.
“Look, Cher. I am here for you. I always will be, even if it’s just as your friend.” Sam gave a heartfelt smile.
Sookie beamed back, she knew it hurt him to stay that. His thoughts all but confirmed that to her. But she couldn’t pretend to find and keep feelings that weren’t there. Sookie wanted real passion in her life, a connection. Not just the convenience of working at the same place and serving the same judgmental people day in and day out. It was tantamount to a dream crusher in her eyes.
After everything she had endured, her telepathy, loved ones dying, and her uncle. Even Bill and his whole mess of bullshit that came with him. Sookie figured true love in her life would be a welcome reward, if she could gather the courage to tell Mr. Eric Northman.
Looking back over her life. Sookie knew she wanted something different, something more. She was more now, she was different. “That’s real good Sam. I need reliable friends in my life, it would break my heart not to count you among them.”
A low whistle rang through the darkness, causing Sam to gasp in surprise. Sookie jerked her head around to where she thought the noise originated from. She was just as startled by the strange sound and for a moment Sookie thought she caught a snarly brain signature close by.
But in the darkened woods, she saw nothing.
“That was weird.” Sookie half laughed, turning back to Sam. She saw him convulse once, twice, and fall to the ground. Still as a stone, he landed on his back with a sharp crack. Then nothing.
No other movement.
Sam’s soft blue eyes wide open as they vacantly peered past her, the stare of death that she had seen so many times over the last few years etched deep in his dilated pupils. He was no longer breathing as he laid in the golden lamp light, the red and yellow autumn leaves surrounded him and just beyond the ominous black night. A dark red stain appeared over his heart, slowly spreading out and dampened his brown buttoned flannel shirt.
“Sam!” Sookie screamed.
“Sam!” She started to sob.
No, no, no.
Not her boss, her friend.
What could she do?
What can she do?
Sookie dropped to her knees, putting her hands against the bloody wound of his chest in an effort to stop the blood and will Sam back to life. That would work right? What she wouldn’t give to have healing powers instead of telepathy at that very moment.
“Somebody help! Help! Sa-Sam’s been shot!” She hollered into the night air.
Another low whistle blew through the darkened woods, grazing Sookie’s shoulder. She cried out as the bullet bit through her flesh. She sent out a wordless prayer that she wouldn’t die tonight. She had so much to live for.
Eric.
She needed to come clean, tell him that she loved him and let him react however he would. Even if it meant her life in servitude to him. Although, truth be told, she didn’t believe Eric operated like that, she had grown up since Bill’s unfaithfulness and schemes to see the truth about Eric.
If she were being honest with herself, Sookie knew she placed more faith in Eric than Bill. Eric seemed to be on a level that Bill never was. Look up a picture of a devious vampire in the dictionary and Bill’s picture was there, not Eric’s.
Although imaging his come hither fingers toward that white fur covered bed was a memory Sookie could die happy with. Amazing all the random thoughts that happen in a split second when you are facing your own mortality.
Sookie collapsed next to her now dead friend. Hoping she could use his body as a shield for any other attacks. She groaned when her uninjured hand grasped her shoulder wound.
Sookie could no longer feel Sam’s brain signature, his body was the only tangible piece of him that remained on Earth. That’s how she knew he was truly dead and gone.
Arlene came bursting out of Merlotte’s back door, annoyed as a mother hen to see her chicks misbehaving.
“Sookie, what in blazes is going on?” Arlene stopped dead in her black slip resistant shoes, taking notice of Sookie and Sam for the first time. “Oh my God, Sam?” Arlene whispered as her hands covered her mouth in shock.
“Is, is he-.”
“Run! There’s someone out here shooting at us. I don’t know where they are. Call the police!” Sookie had to get Arlene out of the line of fire, she wouldn’t have been able to stand another friend being killed by a stray bullet.
She readjusted herself deeper against Sam. A burning pain ripped up her shoulder across her collar bone. Blood was flowing down her arm and dripped off her elbow. Her sight went hazy, Sookie wasn’t sure if it was the blood loss or seeing Sam murdered before her eyes.
Trying to take her mind off the pain, she cast her mental net wide. Hoping to catch the killer. There was a blip, right on the furthest reaches of her mind.
Blackberry thicket was the only way Sookie could think of to describe the pattern. It was a Supe, although not a full shifter.
Something else.
“…get outta here…no good rotten twoey’s…shouldn’t have shot the girl…fear…vampire…coming…”
The person’s thoughts were projecting feelings of regret, anger and pain. Combined with the words that displayed like closed captioning on TV. How odd to have both. Most folks were one or the other, depending on their mood.
Sookie could no longer sense the murderer. After all, this person had meant to kill Sam. Kill him because of what he was. A shifter.
Sookie started to shutter, relieved that the killer didn’t know she was a telepath. Reassured that for the time being, they were leaving and not coming closer to where she lay and finish her off.
Her teeth began to chatter like a cold front had just rolled in Northern Louisiana. Why was she cold? It could be that she was lying on the cold ground. It was close to ten at night. She was shivering harder, uncontrollably so. She was having a hard time focusing on anything.
Maybe if I shut my eyes for a minute, I’ll be able to think clearly. By then maybe…
“Sookie!”
Eric’s worried face filled her blurred sight. His blond hair glinting gold from the ambient light of the bar and the moon. He was other worldly to her. His masculine features and chiseled lips. She blinked a few times and smiled up at him. Happiness filled her.
He was here.
Her Eric was here.
“Eric.” Sookie’s voice was hoarse from crying and screaming. “Sam, S-Sam’s dead. They killed him. They killed him for what, for what he was. Th-they probably want to kill me t-too.” She shook harder as more tears fell down her checks. The coppery smell of blood thick in the air made her nauseous.
Eric picked Sookie up bridal style and walked away from Sam’s body. Holding her close to his chest, he started humming a low soothing tune. She jerked in his hold, fear crawling up her spine in urgency.
“No, Eric! They’ll kill-kill you too. Get away from here, please! Can’t, c-can’t lose you. I can’t.” She was weeping into his neck while gripping his black muscle shirt fiercely with her uninjured hand.
“Lover, no. Shh. I will always be here with you. Nothing will happen to me.” Eric rocked her gently as another flood of molten tears flowed down the surface of her face. The wind chilling the wet streams dry in a look that Sookie thought was unbecoming of a Lady. But at that moment, she was more concerned with getting the man she loved out of danger.
Eric kissed her hair in the privacy of the tree line, allowing Sookie to relax against his lean sculpted body. This felt so right, minus the agony of her upper arm. Sookie felt that she was right where she needed to be. His embrace.
The shaking subsided as her breathing became more even. Being in Eric’s arms made her feel safe and cherished. She knew without a doubt, he would protect her. He could protect her, better than anyone before ever had. Sookie simply had to show her trust in Eric.
Sirens blared in the background breaking their comfortable cocoon.
The sounds kicked something inside of Sookie to remember what Eric had just said.
Lover? He called me, lover?
She pushed away to see Eric’s intent blue eyes on hers, “You called me lover? Why?” She heard the pleading but it could not be helped. She was fearful and hopeful of his answer.
“Because that is what you will be to me again. This time, however, I will remember every curve of your body.” Eric was dead serious even as his eyes flashed with lust. Blushing, Sookie felt a pang of disappointment.
For a second she hoped he had remembered their time together. His answer spoke volumes, of course she knew they would be two sides of the same coin in bed together but she really wished for their emotional connection to return. Sookie guessed that was something she would trust to come back with time.
Sookie winced adjusting to get comfortable in his arms. “First we must see to your wounds.” Eric bit into his wrist without hesitation and offered his ancient healing blood to Sookie.
She grabbed a hold of his arm without so much as a protest and looked deep in his eyes as she drank. Sookie was going to show her faith in Eric. She was going to trust herself to be honest and open. Allowing Eric to be the same with her, even if it took him longer to trust her.
That is what people in love do for each other, after all. Sookie was excited at the prospect of peeling back the layers that the real Eric Northman hid behind.
Eric groaned as she continued to lap at his offered blood. His teal blues eyes brightened and then the pupils dilated in pleasure as Sookie continued to drink. Her shoulder was mending itself back together at the time his wound was closing. Sookie released him. But not before leaving a kiss of thanks on his cooled skin.
“Thank you, Eric.” Sookie grinned up at him. Then licked her lips, savoring the blood that was left in the corner of her mouth. Cool and delicious, as if she had licked a melting ice cube.
“Allow me.” Eric leaned down and put his mouth her the side of hers, lightly licking the corner before fully kissing Sookie on the mouth. She moaned against his lips and Eric took the invitation to caress his tongue with hers.
After another few intense blissful moments, Eric pulled away with some reluctance. “I could feel your anger. I decided to come to you when I was struck with your fear and pain. It was…shocking. I flew to you as fast as I could.”
“I’m glad you did.” Sookie felt a few minds getting closer and she tensed up as she looked past Eric. His fangs were still out, only now Eric hissed loudly in the direction of the intruders. Sending a clear warning for all those to be of care in the presence of a predator.
“Sookie Stackhouse? Where in hell are ya? Sookie!” Andy Bellefleur’s voice rang through the thick trees and autumn leaves. Sookie breathed, knowing they had a long night ahead of them. At least she had Eric by her side.
Sobering to the fact of what was happening around them. Sookie reminded herself that her boss, her friend was dead. Sam lay motionless from the killer’s bullet when only a few minutes before he had tried to revive a romantic relationship with her. If given the chance would she have gone back and said yes to his advances?
No. They were not right for each other. Sookie was sure that given time, Sam would have found a true match for himself. Someone made for him, just like she had found with Eric.
Now, though, Sam deserved justice. They needed to find this killer and stop them from hurting anyone else. Sookie would defend Sam’s dignity. If their places had been reversed, her friend would do no less for her.
Squaring her now fully healed shoulders in determination, she spoke to Eric.
“Come on,” Sookie whispered bringing Eric’s darkening teal blue eyes back to her face. “I need to tell Andy what I saw. And then. I-.” She swallowed. “-I want to stay with you tonight. Is that okay?”
Why was this so difficult? Sookie wondered nervously. They had shared so much a week ago, had Eric retained those memories she had no doubt that she would have spent every night with Eric for the rest of her life. Now, she waited with an unease in her chest that Eric would deny her when she was feeling vulnerable.
“I would not have it any other way.” Eric smiled gently, then took her hand to place a kiss on the back of her palm. He kept a tight grip on her in his arms. Not yet wanting to be parted from her. “You need rest after everything that has happened this evening. Give your statement to the human Sheriff and then we will be on our way.”
It was dark when she opened her eyes. She turned to the side of the bed but the pillow was empty. Slowly she rolled back to her side and waited. She knew that something must have awakened her. And then she heard it; the small sound from across the hall.
Sitting up was a whole new experience. The stitches were still healing and her balance was off. She had thought when she gave birth that her body would look like it was one baby less, but that hadn’t happened. Within days her chest had doubled in size and her breasts were hot and ached. ‘I’m a basketball,’ she thought. ‘Perfectly round.’ In truth when she looked in the mirror (which she now refused to do) she more resembled a gently sloping pear.
Sookie reached to the bed stand and found the switch for the lamp. She closed her eyes and waited for them to adjust. The small sound came again, a little louder. ‘Yes, definitely not going back to sleep,’ she thought. “Well, at least I have ankles again,” she said aloud and toed her feet into her slippers. Sookie leaned forward and grasped the small table beside her to provide a little more leverage. She managed to stand up without too much pulling. She could tell she was soaked and she stopped in the bathroom to take care of human needs and change around her pads. As she caught sight of her skewed hair and her stained fingers she couldn’t help smiling. “Whoever said having babies was glamourous was just flat out lying!” she told the bleary eyed woman who stared back at her.
Sookie was almost at the door before the mewling turned to crying. The light from the hall spilled in allowing her to see her son, his mouth open and his mittened hands flailing. ‘Hush now, husha little one,” she cooed. She ran her hands under his shoulders, placing fingers behind his head, careful not to disturb the bandages. She brought his sturdy little body to her and cradled him against her shoulder. She breathed in the sweet scent that was new baby as she cuddled her cheek against his head. Sookie brought him to the table to change him first. She knew that the feel of the air would wake him a little more and she was getting pretty good at keeping him covered and moving quick.
She lowered him and pulled things together. Then she started the routine; unsnap, pull apart, cover quick before he pees, clean, lotion, diaper, snap. Then Sookie lifted him and at the same time grabbed the flannel blanket and swaddled him close to the way the nurse had shown her.
Her mind drifted back to that morning. She could still remember her surprise. It had been unexpected, the rush of water as she walked through the open air market. Of course it hadn’t been water; it had been her amniotic fluids. She just stood there dumbly, staring at the puddle and not knowing what to think. She had thought she had two more weeks; it wasn’t supposed to happen; it was supposed to be at night. But it had been none of those things.
Tara was visiting and they had thought that it would be fun to take a stroll through the Old Quarter. The morning had been so bright and it was still pleasant. They had gone to Café du Monde and had beignets and café au lait like any other tourist. There had been something about the little doughnuts that hadn’t sat well and Sookie had mentioned to Tara she wasn’t sure it had been such a good idea. Tara had tutted and said what she needed was to get up and move around. “Babies like that; the rocking of their mother endlessly walking.” And they had laughed. Tara had three children; two of them twins. Sookie figured she probably knew a thing or ten about pregnancy and she had felt better as they walked to the long sheds that held the vendors of the market.
They had been there almost an hour and Tara had walked around the corner to buy cinnamon to bring home when it happened. A woman at one of the booths across from her looked up and saw her shocked face. Then she had looked down and quickly walked forward. “Cher? You have someone here with you, yes?” she asked.
“My friend, Tara, is over there,” Sookie had said and kind of waved her fingers. Sookie had not thought she was afraid but the voice that said the words told a different tale. It was a shaky voice full of promised tears.
“You stand right here, bébé. I go fetch your friend. You okay stand?”
Sookie’s jaw was clenched and her head bobbed up and down in a quick staccato motion. ‘I can’t do this,’ she thought. ‘I’m not ready.’
Tara came around the corner, the vendor trailing her. She had a smile on her face and she took Sookie’s arm. “You okay, girl?”
“I don’t know. I want to go home,” Sookie said.
“No, I think we’re headed to the hospital,” Tara told her. The vendor had dragged a metal chair around to the front of her stand and Tara walked her over to it.
“But I have two more weeks,” Sookie said. “This doesn’t really mean anything, does it?”
The vendor was smiling and talking on her cell phone. Tara squatted in front of Sookie and grabbed her hands. Sookie winced a little. Her fingers had been swelling more lately, so much so that she had stopped wearing her rings. Her friend smiled up at her, “You read the books, Sookie. You know this means it’s time to welcome your little baby into the world. Now, we’re going to wait right here and the ambulance is going to come and I’ll come with you.”
“But Eric isn’t here,” Sookie said and her voice seemed very small.
“Nope, baby girl. He isn’t. So you’re just going to have to put up with your best friend. Which is good news for you because I know a thing or two about all this and he would have been just plain useless!” Tara laughed and Sookie couldn’t help but smile. She did want Eric but there was something so comforting in knowing that it was Tara. This was the one person who knew all her secrets.
“You remember when we were in sixth grade,” Sookie said, “and we pinky swore we would always be there for each other?”
Tara held out her pinky and Sookie linked hers through. “Sure do girlfriend. And I pay up. Unlike some girls who leave me pushing out babies with my husband and just show up later for the kissing and cooing.”
Sookie could hear the wail of an ambulance siren. “I’m scared,” she told her best friend.
“Nothing to be scared about,” Tara smiled up at her. “Easy as falling off a log.”
“Falling off a log hurts,” Sookie reminded her.
“Yup, sure does!” Tara winked. “But I promise you this. You take your bruising and the reward is worth more than you’ll ever know.”
Sookie smiled as she remembered that day. Now as she looked down into her son’s open eyes she knew Tara had been right.
The labor pains had started in the ambulance on the way. Sookie had somehow thought that it would be Dr. Ludwig delivering her and she wondered if she should call. Then she thought about the warehouse that served as the small woman’s hospital and the first pain had hit and Sookie didn’t want to think about it anymore. She wanted modern medicine and human faces and Tara standing beside her, holding her hand.
Sookie had come through the Emergency Room entrance in a wheelchair. She had only had two contractions and she was thinking that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. The Admissions person walked up to them with a wheeling computer and started typing information. Tara pulled Sookie’s health insurance cards out of her purse. As they finished up a nurse came over and told them they were wheeling Sookie to room where they could check her to see how far along she was and then they would be getting her a room upstairs. “You lucky you didn’t come in last night,” the nurse told her. “Full moon and we had all kinds of girls through the door having babies. Now it’s kinda quiet; better for you.” She had a kind smile and Sookie could hear that she had been on duty since last night. She would be done soon and was looking forward to going home.
Sookie and Tara were taken to a small room in the emergency triage area. Another nurse came and pulled the curtain. “Let’s get you in a gown,” she said. Between Tara and nurse, Sookie found herself stripped down to her bra and folded into a plain cotton gown. Tara took Sookie’s clothes and put them in a plastic bag the nurse provided. No sooner had the nurse left than a tall man walked into the room. He had a badge and was part of the hospital staff. He glanced at Tara and then bowed to Sookie. “Your majesty,” he said. “I am Stefan. I am at your service. I welcome you…” and the next pain hit. Sookie’s eyes screwed shut and Tara grabbed her hand.
“Breath, Sookie. Breath with it because clenching up is not going to help you or the baby.” Sookie opened her eyes and forced herself to breath. It took a while this time before the feeling, like a belt tightening, loosened. Tara looked over at the Stefan. “I don’t know who you are or who you need to inform but we don’t need a Welcome Wagon just now. It would be good if you could call and let folks know what’s going on and where she is.”
“But, she should probably be transported to a more appropriate facility,” Stefan said. “Someplace that understands.”
“What are you saying?” Sookie asked and then a nurse practitioner walked in.
“What are you doing here?” she asked Stefan. When he opened his mouth to say something she shook her head and said, “You can come back in a minute. I have to check this little mother out,” and she waved the man out the door. Tara held Sookie’s hand as the woman took a look. She asked questions about contractions and took blood pressure. And then another contraction rolled in. This one was even stronger and Sookie felt it all the way to her back teeth. “Oh yeah, it’s time,” the nurse said. “We’re going to get you right upstairs. First baby?”
“Yes,” Sookie said.
“Well don’t you worry none. At the rate this one’s moving it won’t take any time at all. Usually it’s the tall girls that go into labor like this; hard and fast. Guess yours is a little anxious to meet his momma,” and she smiled, washed her hands and called to someone in the hallway to get a room and a gurney.
Sookie could see Stefan at the door. He was making a call but he was brushed aside by two women. They bustled in and helped Sookie up and put a belt around her. “This will help us monitor the baby,” one nurse told her. The other prepped her arm and stuck her with a needle.
‘Who is your obstetrician?” Sookie was asked. She gave the nurse Amy Ludwig’s number. “Never heard of her, the nurse said.”
“She’s usually in Shreveport, but I’ve known her forever.”
The nurse frowned. “Sure hope she makes it down here in time,” she said.
Everything seemed to happen quickly then. The gurney arrived and Sookie was transferred over. Blood had been drawn and a fluids bag was hooked to the needle in her arm. The belt apparatus was unplugged from the machine it had been attached to and the long paper tape that had the record of her baby’s heartbeat was ripped off and laid in the gurney next to her. A young man in scrubs came in and smiled at her.
“Off we go to the best floor in the whole building,” he smiled, “The floor where all the miracles happen.” Sookie smiled back at him.
“Ready?” Tara asked. She was holding purses and Sookie’s clothes and she looked like a sea of calm in the middle of a hive of swarming people. Stefan was staring at them as they wheeled by; his head turned and he never stopped talking on the phone. “He’s creepy,” Tara giggled. As the doors to the elevator closed Sookie squeezed her friend’s fingers where they draped over the rails of the gurney.
“You need to call home. You need to call as soon as we’re off the elevator and make sure.”
Tara gave Sookie a funny look but as they neared their floor he expression turned serious. “You think?”
“Don’t know,” Sookie said. “Why take a chance?” And then another contraction started and Sookie didn’t want to think about anything else but breathing and focusing on something far away; someplace where the woman arched on the gurney was below her and the pain belonged to someone else.
When the doors opened Sookie saw Amy Ludwig. She stood there like she had been in the building all day. “Couldn’t wait for me to finish my golf game?” she asked. Sookie’s eyes were bright with tears and she kept breathing. The contraction didn’t let up until they were in the room. Once the muscles started to release she was shifted to a bed and the curtain was pulled.
“How long has this been going on?” Dr. Ludwig asked.
“Only about thirty minutes,” Tara answered. “We were in the open air market down near Canal Street and her water broke.”
Amy checked the paper tape while the nurses got Sookie settled. They hooked the belt back up to another machine and the sound of the heartbeat came through a little speaker. Amy jerked with her chin and the nurse turned off the noise. “I’m going to check out what’s going on,” the doctor told Sookie. She looked around and found a step stool. “Now I’m going to have you scoot down towards the bottom of the bed.” Sookie did as she was told. Dr. Ludwig was gentle but thorough. “Yup,” she said, “You’re not going anywhere little girl. I’m going to go get some scrubs. Don’t start without me,” and she winked and jumped off the stool.
Tara helped Sookie move back up the bed a little. She fluffed pillows for her friend and pulled up the sheet. “I’m cold,” Sookie told her.
“I’ll go get a warmed blanket from the nurse. I’m sure they have them,” Tara told her and turned to go.
“Wait,” Sookie told her. “Call first. Do it from here.”
Tara nodded and pulled out her phone. Sookie gave her the main number; the one she knew rang through. Someone answered almost right away. Sookie heard Tara identify who she was and where they were. Then she looked up and smiled. “They already know. They sent someone; he should be here any time.” Sookie felt like she released a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. And as she did another contraction started. Tara held her hand and talked with her through the worst of it. She reminded Sookie of things they had done as girls; of people they had known together. When it passed, Tara sat beside her and smoothed her hair from her forehead. She smiled down at Sookie and Sookie thought it was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. “I can see gooseflesh on your arms, “ Tara told her. “Let me go get that blanket. And do you want some juice or water? I’ll be quick as a bunny. Promise.”
“Yes, please,” Sookie told her.
As Tara left the room a tall man she didn’t recognize turned towards her. He was standing outside the door and was clearly on station. “I’m James,” he told her. “I am from the palace. The queen? She is doing well?”
“You have any kids of your own, James?” Tara asked.
“No,” James said. “I haven’t found the right one yet.”
“Well then you’re as useful as tits on a bull. But yeah, she’s doing fine.” Dr. Ludwig walked around the corner then.
“Any more contractions?” she asked. Tara filled her in and told her where she was headed. Amy nodded and then turned to the guard. “You from the palace?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” James acknowledged.
“You need to call and arrange transport. If there are complications we need to be ready to move mother and child back before we get too much attention.” The guard nodded and pulled out his phone.
“You think there’s going to be trouble?” Tara whispered.
“No, not necessarily. But goodness knows what the child will look like. Better to take precautions. It would have been better if she had made it back to the palace. These people,” and Amy gestured towards the hospital employees walking past them, “will insist on having their staff involved and who knows what damage they could do before someone rises to glamour them.”
Tara’s eyes widened. She hadn’t really thought about it. “Do you think that the baby might be damaged; being born during the day?” she asked. Dr. Ludwig shook her head.
“Unlikely. Where were you headed?” Tara told her and Dr. Ludwig nodded. “I can use your help. Why don’t you go get those things and let’s get back inside.”
When Amy walked back in the room it was clear that Sookie was in the middle of another contraction. She picked up the tape and watched the printout of the heartbeat; the spikes and valleys and the contraction continued. “You’re doing well, Princess,” she said. “Not easy like a fairy birth, but you’re not truly fae.”
“Think you could give her a little something to take the edge off the pain?” Tara asked from the door.
Dr. Ludwig frowned. “Why?” She looked at Sookie. “You want something?”
Sookie couldn’t believe she was asking and for what felt like the hundredth time that morning she was grateful her friend was with her. “Yes! That would be nice,” Sookie snarled.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” the doctor snapped back. “Or maybe you should have and you wouldn’t be laying here looking like you do.” Like magic (and maybe it was) the small doctor had a shot in her hand and she injected it into the drip line that was hooked to Sookie’s arm.
Sookie could feel the sting of the medicine as it entered her. Within a short time she felt a little less focused. But then another contraction started and it felt like there was no edge or end to it. Dr. Ludwig moved back down the bed and flipped Sookie’s gown up. She put one hand on her belly and gently inserted fingers to check. “Well, that’s unexpected. You’re almost fully dilated. At the rate this is moving along you could be pushing in less than half an hour. You’re doing real well. Just hang in there,” and she hopped down and headed to the sink.
Tara sat with her. She let Sookie squeeze her hands. When the time came she helped to move Sookie into stirrups and she stood by her head and helped her to roll forward and press down. When five minutes of pushing turned into fifteen minutes of pushing, Tara was the one who got in her face and told her if she couldn’t do better they were going to be wheeling her down and cutting her open to take the baby and she wouldn’t be able to hold it for a while. Sookie managed to find a reserve of strength and holding Tara’s hands, she pushed her son into the world.
Sookie had not looked as the cord that connected her to her child was cut. Her son was laid on her chest and she found herself staring at him as she tried not to pay attention to the final steps of birth. “Going to need some stitches,” Dr. Ludwig groused and in that moment her son seemed to knew Sookie was there. He had a big head covered with blond hair and strong shoulders. He lifted himself up all on his own to look at her, his head bobbing uncertainly.
“Well, will you look at that,” Tara said beside her.
Sookie picked up each tiny hand and looked as his perfect fingers flexed and then wrapped around her finger. She traced the arch of each eyebrow and ran her finger along each little cheek. Then she looked closely at him and said, “Are his ears pointed?”
Amy and Tara had both squinted. Amy picked the baby up and took him over to the warming table where drops were placed in his eyes and first shots were administered. As she carried him back, his crying proving there was nothing wrong with his lungs, she said, “Not unusual for those ears to look a little funny. He was an awfully big boy coming through a small space. Give them a few days and they’ll go back into shape. Eight pounds, 10 ounces. Mr. Northman will be pleased.”
But as she handed the swaddled baby back she took Sookie’s finger and traced it along the delicate arch of cartilage. As their eyes met, the doctor took the small blue knit cap that came with a plastic bassinet and pulled it firmly over the boy’s head. “Looks like the cap is almost too small,” Amy said. “I think you have another Viking on your hands.”
The nurse came forward and Dr. Ludwig nodded. “We’re going to take your son out of the room and get him all cleaned up. The nurse here,” and she jerked her chin towards a woman in scrubs,” is going to help you get yourself together too. They we’ll be back and you can get some sleep.” Sookie nodded. She was tired; more tired than she could ever remember being.
“You have a name for the card?” the nurse asked.
Sookie shook her head. “I want to wait until his father gets here. We’ll announce it then.”
Sookie had slept then. She didn’t remember when Tara had left. She vaguely remembered being poked a couple times and a nurse had insisted she get up and go to the bathroom.
The first time she really woke up she had seen soft lights and a dark sky out the window. She could hear crooning and she lifted her head to see her husband sitting in the chair across from her. He had a blanket draped across his lap and he was holding their son to his shoulder. His hand seemed huge against the baby’s back; his long fingers wrapping all the way up and almost over their son’s head. Eric’s eyes were closed and he was humming. Sookie could see him rhythmically breathing in and out and she knew he was drawing the baby’s scent into himself.
As her smile started, Eric opened his eyes and looked at her. He sent her a wave of such pure joy that Sookie thought her heart would burst and she found her own joy to send back to him.
“I love you,” he told her.
“”I love you more,” she smiled in return.
They had come home the next day; the palace buzzing with the news but once they were through the doors the excitement had died down. Sookie knew that the bubble she was in was only temporary. There would be announcements to be made and presentations. Gifts would be sent and acknowledgements returned. There would need to be photos and the cover story sent to the media. But for now all was calm and quiet.
Sookie settled into the chair and propped her elbow. She freed herself and turned her son to her. He had learned to feed quickly and he accepted the nipple with a greedy pull. He brought his hand up and placed it on her breast.
“I know how you feel,” Eric said from the doorway. Sookie looked up and smiled that Mona Lisa smile that every new mother has; that smile that speaks across the ages of birth and death and rebirth in a great unbroken circle.
“He is his father’s son,” she told him and winced a little as he pulled hard. “But he could use some of your finesse.”
Eric stepped forward, his eyes not leaving the child. “I will teach him when he is ready,” he said softly. Eric squatted before her. He took her free hand and kissed her palm.
“You are thinking of your other children,” Sookie said as she felt a thread of emotion drift across the river of their bond. She dragged her hand from his to smooth it across his hair.
“I wonder what became of them. I remember two of them like this; pulling at their mother’s breast.” Eric’s eyes lifted to hers. “I promise you I will never leave you or our son to go wandering. I will not miss our lives.”
“It was different then,” Sookie told him. “We know you love us.”
Eric watched as Sookie shifted the baby from one side to the other. When he finally became drowsy, his mouth slipping from her, Eric stood. “I will take him,” he offered.
With a movement that showed practice, Eric Northman lifted his sleepy son to his shoulder and rubbed his small back. “I will teach you many things, Finn.” Eric looked up at his wife, a broad smile on his face and in that moment his son made a small grunting sound and threw up with enough force to cover his father both front and back. As he looked at the now smiling infant, Eric Northman said, “Your first lesson will be cleaning up after yourself.”
Later, as they stood over the crib where their son was squirming, his thumb already seeking his mouth, Sookie leaned against her husband. “You know when it was that I first knew I was yours?”
Eric pulled her towards him. “Enlighten me,” he smiled. “There were so many times I tried to tell you, but you would just fight the inevitable.” Sookie poked him and Eric obligingly made a huffing noise. “All right, lover. Tell me. When was it?”
“That night you were running down the lane towards my house. Do you remember?” Then Sookie laughed. “Of course you do! Like you forget anything!” Then she smiled and snuggled back into his embrace. “You were barefoot and lost. You had no memory. I should have kept on driving, but I couldn’t. I knew that you belonged with me. And you’re right; I fought it. But it was that night on that road that was the beginning. I never would have guessed that it would have led to here.”
Your Challenge? To be inspired by the picture and to write!
The rules are as follows: (Note the changes!)
Must use prompt(s). You need to have been inspired by the picture above..
Use fandoms I write it. (It can be one from a story upcoming also. Just ask if you don’t know, you can ask Rissa if you don’t want me to know!)
No letting anyone knowing which story is yours.
If you submit, you can grab the Banner for Participating for the month. You will also receive a banner for the story you submit.
If explicit, you need to warn people in the title.
All entries must be received by kittyinazwritingchallenges@gmail.com by Midnight CST at the end of the last day of the month.
To enter, you can send it to the Kittyinazsbetas@gmail.com or to the Writing Contest email, KittyinazWritingChallenges@gmail.com. These are both permanent email addresses that Rissa checks for entries and really anything. Please include the name you want on the banners when the contest is over for Rissa to send to me. She sends the stories to me, and erases any way of me knowing who wrote what. They are due by the 31st midnight CST, and give me a few days to do the banners. If you wish to send them in early, please do, I will be able to do the banners ahead of time, and get them ready for publishing early.
It truly is amazing the stuff you can find on the internet. I searched Alexander Skarsgard leprechaun and the picture above is what popped up. I think it is fitting for today. Sorry I missed posting last week, but Daylight Savings in the USA screwed me up. Losing one hour completely wrecked my week. I…
Can someone please explain to me why I am seeing more snow in March than I did in the entire months of December and January???? I should be getting ready for spring, not worrying about shoveling 8 inches of snow. The only way snow in March is acceptable is if it this is part of…
Hello lovelies. I cannot guarantee I will be back to publishing weekly, but I will try. My dear beta, kleannhouse, is in high demand trying to juggle the stories of three writers. She is amazing and she makes me laugh with all of her comments on my stories. This one especially. I started this story…
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